Hand Me Downs.

Christmas arrived suddenly, the presents were handed out, although my gift for Mr Weasley remained firmly in the oversized pocket of my large coat.

I hadn’t gotten Fred and George’s until back at Grimmauld place, since it needed ordering and I doubt it was one that Filch would have let through.

Or he would have gone rushing to Umbridge ‘Trying to sneak potions in!’

Well, they weren’t potions... ingredients, expensive ones I might add to use for their developing sweet and joke business. And a special serum that fit easily in the palm of my hand for Neville, some sort of ‘super plant growth’ he’d mentioned it a while ago, moaning about the price.

Once again, Dad came in handy.

Mine from him and Tammy Had been brought the day before, by Kingsley who had done a quick whip around, apparating to Hermione’s and my home to gather them.

The presents were standard Dad, not quite sure what I actually liked so the dresses were no doubt chosen by Angelica, his assistant.

As always, you could tell far too much money had been spent. I knew I sounded ungrateful each year but...they were lovely presents, dresses, jeans, shoes, jewellery.

But it was just another display of wealth, no feeling behind it, just a bark at Angelica one afternoon to sort it out. There was no feeling in it, no thought.

Not that I tried with his too much I suppose, using his own money to purchase the standard bottle of firewhisky ( the only magic he appreciated) and some shirts, a book I had seen and thought he would like tossed on top.

The card was just as simple, signed ‘Dad and Tammy x’

I pushed the thoughts away, grinning at Ginny who was fiddling with something, rubbing an agitated hand down one of the new dresses, the usual loving effort of a Molly Weasley jumper pulled on top.

She’d thanked me for her knitting patterns, the bottle of sherry and a perfume I knew she would prefer over me...not that I mentioned it was from my absent grandparents.

It was times like Christmas that I felt a continuing sting about my lack of loving family, but then the Weasley’s had always taken me in, the Bell family included.

Molly sniffed slightly, and I pulled the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands, stirring the gravy as asked. Percy had sent back his jumper.
The cruel bastard.

She’d been crying on and off all morning, although she tried desperately to hide it, smiling as people busied around, exchanging presents and laughs. “Can you turn that ring down please?” She asked and I did it instantly, “Just leave it to simmer dear, go and make sure the others aren’t up to mischief.”

“Sure.” I offered, voice light as I left the room, running into the others quickly, discussing Kreacher.
“What are you doing?”

“Hermione got Kreacher a present.” Sirius said, a slight hint of scorn on his face.

“How nice.” I said with conviction, smiling widely at her, sure the others had just been rude about it...not that Kreacher was a pleasant creature, “Although I’m not quite sure how he’ll take it, you know what he’s like.”

Sirius snorted. “Well, either way, dinners pretty much ready, where’s Bill, I thought he was here?”

“Upstairs,” Fred said, “I shall escort you my lady.” I rolled my eyes, biting my lip as we brushed past the others, George’s hand ticking along my thigh, catching the bottom of my dress.

I swallowed deeply, only tearing my eyes from him when it became impossible to turn my neck harder.

“Bloody hell, can you two eye fuck somewhere else?” I gasped slightly, shocked by his bluntness.

“Fred!” It was practically a squeal and he grinned, “Don’t be so rude!”

“Yeah, because you’re so innocent and sweet Pelanci...” I stuck my tongue out, him copying the action before we fell into a comfortable silence and moved upstairs. Bill stayed over some nights, cramped on a sofa-bed in the twins room.

Fred led me in, for once we hadn’t apparated and I didn’t intend to bring that up, much preferring my feet on the ground. The room was as untidy as you would expect, knowing the twins, random items of clothing, a cauldron bubbling away in the corner, charms book on the small table.

Bill was finishing a letter, looking sheepish. “Who you writing too?” I asked, smirking at the obvious blush that rose over his pale face.

“No-one.” Fred shot me a look but I shrugged and dropped it, the eldest Weasley child rolling his parchment up quickly, not giving me chance to make sense of the name on top.

“Lunch ready?” I nodded, “Lets head down then.” He gestured for us to leave before him, no doubt hiding the opposing letter.

“Find it.” I said simply,

“Tonight,” Fred answered, “But for now, let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“As usual.” I was cut off when he grabbed my arm, a painful second feeling my melted rubber and we were in the kitchen, I groaned. “Way to put me off my dinner.” I moaned, sitting down heavily next to Ginny, who had her hands on a wizarding cracker already, staring down Ron.

You did not want to lose pulling a wizarding cracker.
It hurt.

“Oh Amelia....” George sang, planting himself opposite me, cracker in hand. I shook my head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No way George.”

After another ten minutes arguing, and an eventual shout from a much cheerier Mrs Weasley the cracker was pulled, and for the first time in my life I wasn’t at the receiving end of a face full of ash and flame.

Instead I ended up with a ball of fluff, which, when wettened, became a tiny puppy, running about doing tricks until it gradually dried back into the ball of fur.

“Very interesting bewitchment.” Hermione had said, taking the ball from my hands and studying it intently, only placing it down when Ron asked if he could have her food that was growing cold in front of her.

It was a typical Weasley dinner, loud, full of jokes, bickering, laughing.

Except Normally, George’s leg wasn’t rubbing against mine, distracting me intensely whenever his long leg easily slid up my thigh underneath the narrow table.

I squeaked suddenly, causing George to chuckle and Molly to shoot me a concerned look, “Just hit my knee.” I said, forcing a calmer look on my face.

Not trying to show that I wanted to leap over the table and ravish one of her sons.

The attention soon fell off of me, although George kept meeting my eye, although his feet stayed hooked around his chair legs. Half way through Lupin and Mad-eye appeared, and I felt a slight stab as I realised why it had been them today.

They had no family, no-one close to them, they were alone today.

“Oh, Remus, I saw a book I thought you’d be interested in...” Hermione started, beginning to stand.

“I’ll go get it, I need to go to the toilet.” I yawned, stretching. She nodded, telling me quickly where it was, but I was hardly in the room before there was a loud crack, as always making me jump.

“Can you not?” I asked, spotting the book laying on top of a pristine pile of clothing, Hermione’s section of the room spotless.

“Can I not what?” He teased, coming up behind me, hands slipping onto my waist.

“That.” I said stiffly, beginning to turn, “We need to go down soon before,” He forced his lips against mine, “George,” I whined, the book loose in my hand, falling back onto the bed as he pushed me onto the window sil, my back instantly growing cold and damp from the condensation, but far more distracting was his hands moving up his waist and running over my chest.

That was a new thing, the kissing had grown to fumbling, jean buttons undone but not pulled down. There wasn’t enough privacy, time.

I wanted too, there was no doubt about that, I wanted to feel him properly, finally relieve the pressure that seemed to flicker in my whole body whenever I was near him.
I didn’t even have to touch him.

I gasped into his mouth, his hands running up my thighs, “George we need to go downstairs,” I managed to moan, one hand wrenching my legs further open and the other already touching me, my hips wanting nothing more than to buck against his fingers.

“It’s Christmas.”

“Your...your...w... whole family is waiting for us.”

He sniggered, hand on my leg tightening as his other moved faster, the gasps leaving me my answer, feeling my whole body wind tighter until there were suddenly footsteps outside the room and George darted a step away, barely any time to re-arrange myself, to stop panting when Hermione entered.

“You having trouble finding it?” She asked, with a slightly knowing smile. I shook my head, George taking charge and talking a quick line of bullshit as I handed the book to Hermione, who left quickly, with a “Don’t be long.”

I exhaled sharply, moving to the mirror, trying to make it look like I hadn’t just been seconds from orgasm, that I was nice and respectable.

I almost sniggered.

Again George came up behind me, his hardness pressing up against the bottom of my back. “You have no idea how awkward that was.” He said, resting his head on top of mine as I smeared some foundation over my flushed face, my pupils still large.

“Oh believe me, I do.” He giggled, causing me to roll my eyes and shrug away from him, “Go down, I’ll come down in a minute, I need a wee.”

“That’s disgusting.” I took a second to gather his meaning.

“You’re disgusting, go wash your hand.”

“You’re such a lady, you know that?”

“Yeah and you’re a true gentleman.” I joked, resting a hand on either cheek and kissing him gently.

“You love it.” He said cockily, adjusting himself as he left the room, whistling an annoying tune.
George Weasley was going to be the death of me.

But I pondered over his use of the word love, in the two weeks we had been back at the headquarters, all of which we had sunk into this almost relationship those two words hadn’t been mentioned.

Love. Relationship.
Were we in one? And was there any?

I shrugged, we hadn’t even spoke about speaking about it. It had been left.
That didn’t meant it didn’t play in my mind, especially after things had grown more physical.

I’d mentioned it quickly in a letter to Ryan, who offered me the wonderful advice of
Get on with it you slut.

He worried me.

It was something I was dying to talk to either Leanne or Katie about, although Leanne would give me a romanticised view...very unlike her own stance on boys.

Katie would be more logical, but I felt it was more a ‘in person’ talk so it would have to wait until next week.

I sighed slightly, popping my lips and leaving the room, heading to one of the small and now clean bathrooms, the only place dirty was the edges of the ceiling borders where Molly couldn’t physically reach. Although I didn’t think the mold would shift either way.

The meal was still in full swing when I left, and, I noticed with a slight groan that Mundungus had appeared, he had been getting a way of us to travel to Saint Mungos.

But that also meant that pudding was now on the table, and at the sight of chocolate I felt my stomach rumble.

“You were an awfully long time,” Ginny muttered to me under her breath aiming a look between George and myself. “You two need to sort this out.”

“You wouldn’t believe how much I hear that.” I said back, accepting a slice of cake from Lupin with a thank you.

“It’s obvious you both want to be together, I don’t get what the delay is.”
The delay was for many different reasons.

Whatever his were I wasn’t sure, but his insurance of ‘not to overthink’ had planted a seed.
Did he not want to be with me, was I just some holiday thing?

But no, George had never been like that, he wouldn’t, not after anything.
I’d spend a couple of days almost convinced this was some horrid mind game he had formed to get back at me for Dale.

That was stupid as well.
For me, well, I wanted it, there was no denial.

But the same seed wondered what would happen if it didn’t work. I couldn’t lose him as a friend, not after all this time.

Would they all stop talking to me again?
It made me upset just to think about it.

“Not sure.” I said lowly, my voice dripping with poison even I could hear.

She dropped conversation after that and the meal ended quite soon, everyone preparing to get to St.Mungos.

“As far as I am aware Neville will be there today, he always is.” Mrs Weasley had told me when I had asked, although I already knew the answer,
“We’ll find some way to get you time to visit him without the others... well never mind, pop on your coat dear, we’re going by car!” She grimaced as she spoke.

To me a car was far preferable to any other form of wizarding travel.

“Just as long as we’re not apparating.” I replied.

“You’ll start doing it soon,” She warned, “Although it is far less taxing when it is just yourself.”
________________________

The drive to St Mungos was short, although the bewitched car was an odd feeling, easily fitting all of us in comfortably.

The hospital itself also seemed quiet, people visiting would be with their relatives and I suppose there was little other reason to come to a hospital, other than an injury yourself.

That was exactly what the witch in front had, a large nut jammed up one nostril in a way that made Ginny and myself snigger, Mrs Weasley scolding us quickly, her own footsteps growing swifter as she grew excited at the prospect of seeing her husband.

The hospital was decorated, and as usual I marvelled at magic decorations, the star on top of the tree which looked like it had actually been pulled down from space, orbs twisting, and icicles in every corner.

“Amelia,” Mrs Weasley called when we were on the correct floor, “Pass me your present for Arthur, I’ll give it to him, I need you to go speak to that doctor if possible.” I nodded, instantly understanding the meaning behind her words, the twins frowned.

“It’s fine, I’ll just be a sec, me and your mum were talking in the kitchen.”

“Yes, come on lads, I’m sure Amelia can survive ten minutes without you both.” Lupin interjected with a small grin, drawing them into conversation and giving me time to sneak off up to the fourth floor ‘Spell Damage’ and more precisely to the ‘Janus Thickey Ward,’ having to talk to a nurse before she would unlock the door.

I recognised her, having seen her when my mother had been here, and every other time I had visited the Longbottoms’ since.

I headed in quickly, coughing to alert Neville once I had drawn closer to them, Alice and Frank sat on the bed, Alice, in almost a moment of recognition waved at me, shouting something that wasn’t quite a word.

Augusta turned, shooting me a grim smile before struggling to her feet, her cane tapping hard on the marble floor before she engulfed me in a strong hug, the stuff vulture on her hat almost poking me in the eyes. It’s own yellow and glassed.

“Amelia, my love, how have you been, come and sit down, we have tea!” I was dragged down, her claw like hand hard on my arm, she tore closed the curtains behind us, barking at Neville to “Be a gentleman and give Amelia your chair!”

I smiled at him, hugging him quickly as we swapped places.

Augusta poured me a cup, Anne, as usual drawing closer to me and playing with my hair, putting it in barely there plaits.

Frank was always less involved, he stared into place as she did, but sat still, sometimes murmuring, sometimes silent for weeks on end Neville said.

“Here you go.” The tea was in my hand, and as always I sipped it, never wanting to tell her how much I detested the taste.

“I got you a present.” I said suddenly, my coat already on the back of my chair, causing me to lean around Alice to grab it, putting it in his hand. “No card, sorry.” He held it up to better light, grinning widely as he read the small label.

“Oh Merlin's beard Amelia, thank you so much!” He looked like he wanted to hug me again, but his grandmother demanded a look, the two of us sharing a grin even as she reprimanded his ‘odd love of plants’

“This is so cool, I... this is really going to get her along, and did I tell you? Professor Sprout had been helping me to breed, she wants to use them to create certain potions as well as teach with them in Herbology.”

“That’s wonderful Neville.” I said earnestly, his smile infectious.

“Not as wonderful as learning some decent spells would be,” Augusta muttered under her breath, adjusting her green dress.

“Everyone excels at different things,” I contrasted, keeping my tone light, as if her constant put downs didn’t bother me.
“Neville is lucky to have something he is so good at, I’d kill for that.” She sucked on her lip but kept silent, allowing Neville to continue.

“How are you doing Frank?” I asked after a few minutes, the older man not stirring in the slightest, Augusta sighed, “Not much change then?” I didn’t want to push, but every time I saw them I wanted to know.

I wanted some sudden miracle to cure them, for them to blink hard, their senses to return.

But there was no hope of that.

“Oh Gilderoy!” I heard the nurse say, no doubt bringing the amnesic professor back into his room.

“He’s a nightmare that one.” Augusta huffed, adjusting her hat, “Keeps trying to offer me ghastly pictures of himself, he taught you as well didn’t he?” I nodded and she scoffed.

“Useless man.”

Neville sniggered and his grandmother looked at the small watch around her wrist.

“We must be off soon Neville, your uncle is round for dinner, oh, and before I forget Amelia,” I turned to her, watching her fiddle in her handbag,

“I found these whilst cleaning and I thought they would look lovely with your eyes, some old earrings my mother had I never fancied. Neville thought it would be nice as a present for you.”

I smirked at her openness, mouthing a thank you to Neville before the box was even in my hand.
“Well thank you both very much, I’m sure they’re lovely.”

My manners always came out in full force around Augusta, after all, she used to scold my language and pronunciation as much as Neville’s when we were younger.

“Must get going then,” She cleared her throat struggling to her feet, “Come along Neville, it was lovely to see you Amelia, do pop and see us over Easter.”

“Well I’ll walk you out,” I offered, “I was visiting a friend as it was, Arthur Weasley.” I offered, telling a more detailed story to Neville as his grandmother took a few steps ahead.

It was then things became very awkward, “Oh- Mrs Longbottom are you leaving already?” The nurse called, moving to reveal a familiar figure...and then as they moved four.

Ron shouted back, recognising the name, his brow furrowing as he saw me. “It’s us Neville....Lockhart's here...who you been visiting...how did you end up in here Amelia?” I saw Neville flush and glared hard at Ron, Hermione’s face slowly turning to a look of understanding.

Harry looked horrified, he must have known somehow.

Augusta, unaware of the tension and almost humiliation of her grandson began to talk, introducing herself and working out who each was.

“Is that your Dad at the end there Neville?” I wanted to punch Ron in the face, his naivety, inability to piece it together was painful for all of is, not least the beetroot colour Neville.

“'Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?'” Augusta raged, looking like she wanted to slap him.

“Augusta...” I started warily, my voice low, eyes still striking daggers at Ron, him still too ignorant to notice, to shut his large mouth.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” She continued, “You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!” I gripped his hand softly, his eyes not on us, up at the ceiling.

“Ron!” I hissed, watching as he desperately tried to see down the ward.

“I’m not ashamed.” Neville all but whispered, his hand limp in mine.

Augusta continued, “My son and his wife,” she said, talking to the four “were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers.”

The faces of three turned instantly to horror, but Harry’s remained uncomfortable, only securing my idea that he knew, but how...Neville had never told anyone.

“They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community...”

I think we all understood that this meant the Order, I watched Hermione, seeing her mentally scanning through the picture at Grimmauld place, working out which were Neville’s parents.

She needn’t have bothered, Alice appeared soon enough, stumbling down to the group of us, hand outstretched, fist clenched around something.

“Oh again Alice dear?” Augusta sighed, telling Neville to dispose of whatever was in his hand.

It was an old wrapper and Neville held tightly onto it, clenched in a fist, his other hand squeezing mine before he let go, following his grandmother from the room, shooting me a last small smile, placing the wrapper in his pocket.

I turned from the four, hearing several exclamations as I headed back down, making sure Alice was back sat on her bed, accepting a wrapper of my own and another tug on my hair.

“I’ll see you soon.” I felt my throat suddenly clog, looking at her, at what my mother could have become, “Neville loves you very much, I hope some part of you still knows that.”